Marvels and Terrors
by Red Justice
Summary: In a future world where the superheroes of old are all either dead or evil, two old friends, Marvel and Intel, must stand up for what's right. But are they really ready to take on their old mentors? Hopefully better than it sounds. Please read and review.
1. New York, New York

**Welcome to my new story! The idea came to me yesterday, and I just had to write about it! The only characters that I own are Marvel and Intel. Oh, and for those who might wonder, this does not mean that I'm going to stop writing my other story. I'm going to try to write both of them at the same time. Hope you enjoy!**

**Marvels and Terrors: Chapter 1**

"They're here,"

The voice cuts through my daydreams, which I find rather annoying. After all, they were pretty good daydreams. Better than crouching on the edge of this rooftop in New York City, watching as the people beneath me go around their routines. If only I could have one of their lives: simple, safe, and fun. At least until the Peacemakers take over this city, too.

"What do you mean?" I ask, my red cape blowing around in the violent wind. I don't turn to face the other factor in the conversation. I've known her for too long to have to look at her to recognize her.

"It's them, Marvel. They've found you."

I sigh, standing out of my crouching position. "Then we'll have to run."

"It's not that simple," My friend replies. "They're right above us, and below. Leaving us with one option."

Cursing, I clench one of my hands into a fist. "They thought this one out."

"Affirmative."

"So we either surrender-" I start.

"-Or we fight," She finishes. "I think I know what you're going to do."

For the first time in months, I crack a smile, which my mask conceals, fortunately. I can't afford to show too many emotions these days. "I take low, you take high?"

"We can work with that," My companion replies.

"Good," I say, turning to face her. "Who do they have down there?"

"Well," My friend starts. Her codename is Intel, and I've known her for eight years. She's an andrioid, though you can't tell from first glance. You never can with that type. Her black combat suit, which I always call a ninja costume, allows her to blend in with the shadows perfectly. The only thing that alows me to see where she is is her glowing green eyes. She may not look too amazing, but I've seen the kind of things she can do in battle. You do _not _want to cross her.

"If you go down there, you'll have to fight your way through four of them: The Captain, Soul Rider, Phantom Four, and The Hulk."

"The Hulk?" I ask. "Which one?"

"The white one," She answers grimly. "Think you can handle it?"

Adjusting my black gloves, I turn back to the streets below. "You know me, Intel. I can handle anything."

Before she can reply, an insanely loud scream breaks out, knocking me off my feet. Turning my head, I see a man, dressed in black armour with the occasional white symbol, floating above us. "The Inhuman." I breathe softly.

In the superhuman world, he's a legend. Even before his family was killed, and he took on their name, King Black Bolt was known as one of the most powerful men in the Universe. At first, he was a hero, to a certain extent. When he fought, it was on the side of good. After the Villain War, though, he changed. Instead of a costume, he began wearing armour. He no longer recognized mercy as an option. Eventually, he joined up with the rest of the Peacemakers, adding another enemy to my long list.

Intel doesn't take the time to ponder all that. In seconds, she's on her feet. "Marvel, run! I've got this!"

"You sure?" I ask, still not moving. "I know you're tough, but... The Inhuman? It'll be hard."

"Go!" She yells, her skin beginning to glow.

Nodding, I jump to my feet, and launch myself off of the rooftop. It's a risky gamble. Unlike most superheroes, I can't just jump off buildings and survive without a scratch. Not most of the time, anyway. So I'm counting on one thing: My enemies need me alive.

Halfway down, I start to think my plan won't work. If they were going to save me, they would have done it by now. Maybe they'll just let me die. I wouldn't mind too much if they did. If I'm not alive, they can't get information from me. Maybe they'll even give me a proper burial. I have been called a worthy enemy, after all.

Just before I hit the ground, though, something stops me. I feel a pair of arms holding me from underneath, as if they caught me, but I don't see anything. That can only mean one thing.

"Hello, Phantom Four," I greet casually. "Nice weather we're having, eh?"

"Cap says we need you alive, Marvel," Four replies coldly. She's invisible, like she always is. She hasn't been visible for three years, I've heard.

"I was counting on that," Quickly, I grab what must be one of her arms, and concentrate. As soon as I do, power surges into me, and I know exactly what to do.

My vision switches to infrared, allowing me to see my opponent. She's giving off a lot of heat, which I expected. After all, she must have flamed on in order to catch me. I take a deep breath, and suck all of her flames into my body, taking her flight powers for myself. Immediately, fire surrounds me, and I can feel the power it brings.

"What...?" She begins, startled and falling.

"Nice talking to you," I mock salute her, and jump out of her arms, flying downwards.

"MARVEL!" Phantom Four shouts, falling far faster than I had been before.

Chuckling, I watch as her impact makes a crater in the ground. Her strength will allow her to survive, but that must have hurt. Lowering myself down, I land without a sound, and extinguish my flames, turning off my infared vision as I do. Immediately, a motorcycle zooms up to me, and two people get off. Neither one looks happy to see me.

The first one, the one who had been driving the motorcycle, is the scariest by far. For starters, his face is a skeleton's, with flames running up it. His empty eye sockets seem to stare right into my soul, looking at all of my actions and judging me by them. They probably do, knowing his history. He wears a black business suit, which is not usual attire for one of his following. Have things really changed that much?

As intimidating as the first one is, I turn most of my attentions to the second one. I know from experience that he'll be the harder one to beat. He wears the costume that he's always worn: the blue mask with the "A" on his forehead; the colours of the flag over his stomach; heck, he's even still wearing the wings on his head. And he has the shield, of course. He's always had the shield.

"Captain," I greet the second man. "Long time no see. Then again, the last time I saw you, you were threatening to kill my family."

"Hard times call for hard choices," The Captain replies. "Turn yourself in, Marvel. I can assure you that you won't be hurt."

"Not very much, at least," The first one mutters. I can tell he didn't mean for me to hear him.

"Don't think I've met you before," I say to him. "I hear they call you Soul Rider? What happened to the Ghost?"

"The old mantle died with Blaze and Ketch,"Soul Rider replies. "It is the soul that reigns supreme now."

"Is that so?" I say, walking up and putting my hand on his shoulder. "Pity. I liked Blaze."

"Rider!" Cap shouts, reaching for us. "Look out!"

But he's too late. I've already activated my ability, and I feel my flame powers and infrared vision leaving. Immediately, they are replaced by something else. Something... Different.

I've used my ability on a lot of different people, so I should be used to it by now. And I would be, except it's effects are always different, depending on who I touch. And Soul Rider has some pretty weird stuff going on, so the effects are pretty screwed up for him.

At first, I feel nothing. No power, no physical changes, nothing. But then I look at the Rider, and everything changes. Instead of seeing him, I see his life. Everything he's ever done, ever said, ever even thought I'd doing. It's all right in front of my eyes. I pull back my head and laugh like a maniac. This must be how he feels. I'm turning his own trick back on him.

Quickly, I choose the worst of the memories, and there are a lot of them. All the things he's done with the Peacemakers, everything he did to get where he is, he's ashamed of it all. And I use that. I take it and shove it into the front of his mind, where he can't escape it. I use his Penance Stare, and it feels good. Time for the doctor to taste his own medicine.

Immediately, he falls to his knees, unable to handle it all. Whoever this Soul Rider is, he couldn't hold a candle to Blaze or Ketch. Still, he is a Rider, and he might have a way out of his own trick, so I take his head and slam it against the pavement, knocking him unconscious.

Now it's only me and The Captain. He approaches me carefully, his fists raised. He looks angry, but also slightly impressed. We haven't seen each other in years, and he's used to me only being able to use my ability once every few hours. Obviously, that's no longer the case.

Still, I do have a slight headache. Usually I can use my ability at least five times before it begins to wear me down, but Soul Rider's effect really tired me out. Me and the mystical realm don't get along very well. I don't think I have enough power to use the Penance Stare again, even if it is my only way out of this.

"You look a little tired, Marvel," The Captain says, throwing a few short jabs at me to test my reflexes. I barely manage to dodge them all. "Was taking the Rider down to much for you?"

"As if," I reply with false bravado, trying to figure out a way to grab him. "I've improved over the years, you know."

"I'm sure you have," He says calmly. "I remember when you used to depend on a broken beer bottle to fight."

"And I remember when you used to care about doing the right thing," I counter.

"Touché," He replies, throwing his shield at me.

He's clever, but I know the move. He wants me to jump for the shield, so he can tackle me while I do. Instead, I just reach out my hand and grab it. Luckily for me, he doesn't realize what I've done, and tries to tackle me anyway. Dodging out of the way, I bring the shield down into his back, push him backwards, and shove it into his face. With a groan, his eyes slide closed. Another one down.

Straightening up, I turn away from him, reveling in my victory. "Shouldn't have taught me that move, Cap."

"It doesn't matter now. You still lost."

Before I could react to the strange voice, a giant white fist came down on me, knocking me deep into the ground. Groaning, I looked up, into a colossal red eye.

"The... Hulk..." The words stay on my tongue as I slip into unconsciousness.

For those who don't know, my name is Marvel, and I am in deep trouble. Welcome to my world.

**There you have it! Have you figured out Marvel's power yet? If you think you have, tell me! Hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Oh, and if it isn't too much of a pain, could you please review? It would mean a lot. Thanks!**


	2. My Glory Days

**Here's chapter two! It's a flashback, which is why everything other than the first paragraph is in past-tense.**

**Marvels and Terrors: Chapter 2**

How had this all started? As I drift in and out of consciousness, my mind flies back through the years, back to the days when I was young and fairly innocent…

It started eight years ago, give or take a few months. I was thirteen, and was totally unaware of the fact that I had super-powers. My life was fairly normal at that point, as normal as a teenager's can get. I practically lived with my friends, didn't really try at school, and tried to keep contact with my parents to a minimum. I wasn't the most poular guy at school, but I managed.

Then came the bank robbery. The best thing that ever happened to me.

It hadn't started that well, of course. My mom, who constantly insisted that I didn't go outside enough, dragged me on a trip to the bank with her. With my luck, it had been a busy day, so we were forced to wait in line for what seemed like hours, listening to the others in the line complain about crime, celebrities, climate change and whatever else happened to be on their list of complaints at the moment.

Just as I thought I was going to die from boredom, the nearest wall fell apart, and I was sent flying. After the dust settled, I rolled off of my face with a groan, and almost fainted at the sight of one of the longest-standing supervillain teams of all time: The Sinister Six.

They were just as intimidating as I had imagined: each one seemingly brimming with power and evil, just ready to be unleashed on the world. At least, that's how they looked then. When I heard Spider-Man's view on them a year or so later, they looked way less amazing, especially considering that only half the roster had been in the bank for the robbery.

Unfortunately, at the time I had none of that knowledge, so I simply trembled on the ground, hoping they wouldn't see me.

"All right!" Electro announced, electricity dancing through his fingers. Even at that age, I found his green and yellow costume kind of laughable. This guy was supposed to be fairly big time. "Listen up! This is your typical robbery. You give us what we want, you get to live to tell your families about this tonight. Sound good?"

No one spoke up. "Let's just get the money and go," Sandman grunted, his half-sand body sliding towards the bank vault. Somehow, his clothes stayed the same when he transformed. Were they designed specially for him or something? I never quite got that.

"Why so grim, Marko?" Mysterio asked, walking through the crowds of terrified civilians. His costume was the most laughable of them all. I mean, come on. Who wears a fishbowl for a helmet?

"I just don't like this part of the job," Sandman complained, slithering through the vault door.

"And you shouldn't," A deep voice rang out, causing the crowd's heads to turn. I knew that voice. By that point, we all knew that voice.

Electro cursed, flinging his hands in the air. "Captain America. Why did it have to be you?"

"Oh, he's not alone," Another, more metallic voice chimed in.

"Iron Man speaks the truth," The third and final voice said coldly. "You three will have to contend with us."

I almost cheered. It was them. The Avengers, Earth's Mightiest Heroes. Granted, the only ones there at the time were Cap, Iron Man, and The Vision, but it was still help. The best help you can get in that situation.

They stood in the hole that used to be the wall, tall and proud. Cap held his shield with pride, the very image of hope and inspiration. Iron Man's eyes lit up, his computer probably uploading the villains' files and figuring out ten different ways to beat them. And Vision, possibly the most dangerous of them all, simply observed, his face devoid of all emotion. Together, they sent a message that you couldn't ignore. This was nothing for these guys. They had stopped entire alien races.

"There's three of you," Mysterio said, his voice full of disbelief. "Great."

"Give it up," Iron Man told them. "Honestly, the worst hero you guys have faced is Spider-Man. And no offense to Spidey, but we three are kind of at a different level than him."

"Bring it on, Tin Man," Electro challenged. "I'm the most powerful one here. I'm not afraid to face you." Electricity sparked out of him, making the nearby civilians duck for cover.

"Have it your way," Iron Man said, turning his jet boots on.

He flew straight at Electro, grabbed him, and lifted him up through the bank's roof.

"Electro-" Mysterio sighed. "-Why do you have to be such an idiot?"

"A good question," Vision observed, rising up from the ground behind the villain to shove his hand into his chest. "Though you probably shouldn't ponder it now."

Cap, meanwhile, headed straight to the vault. "Cain, it's me, Cap. You can't stay in there forever. Come out peacefully, and I assure you that you won't be harmed."

"Nice try, Cap," Sandman said, sliding up from behind the Captain. "But I'm not going to fall for that one."

Pulling back his fists and turning them into giant, solid sand hammers, he slammed them into Cap, crumpled to the ground. Sandman raised his hammet fists again, preparing to bring them down for a final blow. "Sorry about this,"

And that was when I acted. I don't know why I did, what inspired me to do it, I just ran. It was probably instincts. Or maybe I really have always been crazy.

Regardless, I acted, and it was the best decision of my life. Jumping up, I sprinted across the bank, right towards Sandman, and put my hand on his back. And that was when it happened.

Nobody was ever sure where I got my power from. It wasn't from any kind of radiation accident, that's for sure. I think I would remember getting toxic waste dumped in my face, or being hit with a bomb blast. At first, they thought I was a mutant, but that wasn't it either. The DNA testing came out negative. So it stayed a mystery.

When I first used it on Sandman, I almost had a heart attack. As soon as I touched him, something inside of me told me to focus, and that's just what I did. In a few seconds, it was like I had been surrounded by my own personal patch of arctic weather. Cold flooded into me, and I did the first thing that came to me: I gave it all to Sandman.

In seconds, the cold had spread throughout his entire body, turning his body into pure ice. Even the hammers froze. "Wha...?" He didn't finish his words for some time.

For a few seconds, everyone just stared at me in silence, almost as shocked as I was. I couldn't have powers. Not me. Before I could think on it any further, I fainted, my body unable to handle the strain of using its power for the first time.

"Son?" It was Cap's voice that brought me back into the world of the awake.

"Hm...?" I grunted, sitting up. I was on a couch that reminded me quite a bit of the one I had at my house. "Where am I?"

"You're at home," Cap replied, gesturing around. "We took you here after your... Incident."

"So it really happened?" I asked, rubbing my eyes. "I actually have powers?"

"That you do," Iron Man answered, standing beside Cap. "In fact, you've got one of the strangest powers I've seen in some time."

"What's so strange about it?" I asked. "Isn't it just the same as that mutant - is it Iceman? - has?"

"Not at all," Iron Man replied. "I've done some scans of the battle, and of your DNA, and the results are the same."

"What do you mean?"

"Your body, it adapts to different people," Cap informed. "And more importantly, different powers. But it all depends on touch. So if you touched, say, the Human Torch, you'd get water powers."

"So if I touch someone, I get the power I need to stop them?"

"Pretty much," Cap replied. "Now, I think your mother wants to have a word with you."

The two Avengers split to let my mom through. After talking to two of the most famous people in the world, I wasn't too excited to see her, but I was kind of glad to have someone normal to talk to. That is, until she held me tight and whispered into my ear: "If you even try to be a Superhero, I'll ground you."

I simply nodded, and whispered back that I wouldn't. Of course, it was a lie. I did try. Heck, I even succeeded, after a while. It was hard work, but I was up to it. The first thing I had to do was get a costume. Of course, I couldn't buy one without my mother noticing. So I made one, Spider-Man style: I sewed it together.

Let me tell you, it was one ugly piece of work. Ever seen Captain Ultra's original costume? Imagine that, but worse. Far worse. Hey, is it my fault that the only materials I could find we're rainbow coloured?

As you can imagine, I wasn't exactly "the scourge of the underworld". I was a scrawny thirteen year-old in a rainbow coloured costume. I didn't really strike fear into anyone's heart. And I had another problem, too: I couldn't fight anyone who didn't have powers. Which basically took out three quarters of the criminal community. Leaving one quarter for me to fight, of which around half was either in jail or way above my level. Needless to say, things weren't looking good for me.

I did manage to stop a few small-timers, people like Toad and Blizzard, but I didn't get my big break for a few months.

When I did get it, though, it was glorious. I had been following small leads from a few guys I took down, trying to find the infamous Bar With No Name. A little out of my league, I know, but I had to try. One night, I followed the final lead, and I got it: the address.

Immediately, I hailed a taxi and gave the driver the address. This was pretty usual for me. In fact, criminals had started to call me "the taxi kid". Not the most amazing name ever, but it was better than "rainbow boy".

Once we arrived, I payed the driver and got out, ready to make my soon-to-be famous entrance. Gathering all of my strength, I kicked the door down, and strode in. "Okay, scum. Time to pay the-"

I was interrupted by a body flying right by my head. Turning, I saw that someone had already beat me to it. In the middle of the room stood a girl in black combat gear, and she was mopping the floor with everyone else.

At first, I was angry. It had taken me a month to get this address, and this girl had beaten me to it! But then things started to go badly.

One of the villians, I think he was called the Shocker, managed to blast her from behind, knocking her down. "Nice try, girly, but this is our turf."

"Not any more!" I shouted, lunging at him.

I didn't want to waste my one usage of my ability on him, so I simply pounded at him mercilessly, hoping he would be surprised enough to not fight back. He was. Standing up, I bared by teeth and growled at the other criminals. "You want a go at me, too?"

Unfortunately, they did. With a roar, they charged, and I was faced with a choice: run or fight. Being an angry teenager, I did the natural thing: grabbed a nearby bear bottle and started swinging.

It worked pretty well, but some of them just refused to go down. Eventually, the girl and I ended up standing back to back, surrounded by ten extremely ticked off supervillains.

"Do you have a power?" The girl asked me.

"Yeah, but it might not be the most effective in this situation," I replied.

"I don't care. Use it!"

Grimacing, I reached for the nearest villain - the Rhino - and went to work. Almost immediately, my body began shifting and changing, until I stood above them all, a ten-foot tall giant. "Sweet!"

Swinging my hands, I sent all the villains flying into the walls, which fell down on a few of them, and stomped on them for good measure. Concentrating again, I forced myself to shrink back to normal size.

"That's your power?" The girl asked, slightly shocked. "How could that not be useful?"

"I get a different power depending on who I touch," I answered. "So I could have got a really bad one."

"Well, I'd say you did pretty well," A voice said.

"Cap?" I asked, turning to face him. "What are you doing here?"

"Come on now," Cap said, stepping through the doorway and patting me on the back. "Did you really think that we wouldn't be keeping tabs on you?"

And so began my glory years, as short as they were.

**Please review!**


	3. The Strongest There Was

**Marvels and Terrors: Chapter 3**

"Wake up, Marvel,"

Cold water splashes onto my mask, soaking it and me. Opening my eyes slowly, I'm greeted to the sight of three Peacemaker guards crowding around me. We're in some kind of vehicle, possibly a quinjet, with metal walls and a sloped roof. Strangely enough, there's no water bucket to be seen.

I observe the guards. They're wearing the standard attire: black trenchcoats with red jeans and skull masks. It's a little strange for a guard uniform, but it was Soul Rider's call, I heard. Don't know why they would put that guy in charge of uniforms.

"Look..." I manage. My entire torso area hurts more than anything ever should. I think Hulk might have broken a few things. "It's the Rider's groupies. How'd you three get a gig like this?"

"Shut it, rebel," One of them orders, kicking me in the gut. His eyes glow a murderous shade of blue, and I realize that he must have been the one who splashed me. Water formers always have glowing blue eyes.

Looking down, I realize they tied me to a large, metal chair, made of the same kind of material as the vehicle. "Huh," I grunt, spitting out blood into my mask. "Think you'd be so tough if I wasn't tied in this chair?"

"I said-" The guard starts, raising his fist. Before he can strike me again, though, one of his companions grabs his arm, stopping him.

"Hey, cool it, man. He's just trying to get inside your head. You know what Cap would do if we were caught abusing a prisoner, especially this one." This guard's tall, I'd guess around 6 feet. Unlike the others, he's not wearing any gloves, revealing hands lined with scales.

"Yeah, well, if he gets out of line again, I'm not going to hold back," The first one says, shaking his friend's hand off.

"So what's the deal?" I ask the guards. "Did Cap ask you guys to escort me to interregations?"

The first two glance at each other worridly, as if that's exactly what happened. The third, however, simply stands in the corner silently, not saying a word.

"That's what I thought," I say casually. "I have no idea why Cap would choose _you_ though, water eyes. I thought he still had standards."

"That's it," The first guard says, shoving the second one into one of the walls. "This guy's going down."

He pulls back his fist, and brings it right into my jaw. It's a good hit, better than I had expected it to be. He hits me a few more times before grabbing my face with both hands. "Listen up. No one messes with me. Hear me? _No one._"

"And no one messes with me," I reply, grinning. He's still touching me. I have him just where I want him.

Takng a deep breath, I activate my ability for the third time that day. Surprisingly, I've never tried using my ability when someone else is doing the touching, but it still works. This time, though, I'm presented with two different options: fire or ice. The power does that sometimes. It's adapted itself a bit over the years.

I take a few seconds to ponder it. Ice would be more suited for the guard, but fire has more power. In this case, the choice is easy. _Fire, _I think.

As soon as I do, a burst of fire erupts around me, burning my bonds into cinders and setting the guard on fire. Standing up, I send a concentrated blast of fire at the second guard, who immediately falls on his back, trying to pat off the flames. I turn to attack the final guard, but he's nowhere to be seen.

Pointing to the nearest wall, I melt a hole in it, and jump out. Turns out I was in a Quinjet, and it was pretty high up, far too high for my comfort. Enveloping myself with fire, I fly up into the clouds. From what I saw when I jumped, I'm above a desert, which is good and bad. Bad, because I have no idea how to survive in a desert. Good, because if it's the desert I think it is, I might have some friends to contact.

Flying down a little, I decide to explore from above a bit. My chances are better in the air than on the ground. After exploring countless miles of barren landscape, though, I'm about to give up. But then I see it: the test site.

It's almost like area 51, in terms of fame. Different people have called it different things: Birthplace of Evil, The Cursed Land, even The Beginning of Heroes. Personally, I've always thought of it as what it is: a test site, albeit one that produced some of the greatest monsters of our time.

I try to resist the urge, but I have to go down. I have to see it. Landing on the still-scorched ground, I simply stand still, staring in awe. I didn't think this place was still around, honestly. Thinking back on what happened here so many years ago, I almost collapse. This place has a history deeper and darker than most people, including myself, fully know.

Eventually, I get myself to turn and fly out of the site. If I'm going to do what I need to, I probably don't have much time. Part of me wishes that things were like they were back when the whole superhero thing had just started, in the beginning days of the Avengers, X-Men, and Fantastic Four. Things were so much simpler then, when heroes were heroes and that was all there was to it. Of course, there were some exceptions, as the test site proves, but still, it must have been nice.

After some time, I find what I've been looking for. It's a fairly large cave opening, near the edge of the desert. If you haven't been trained on this desert and it's most famous inhabitent, you wouldn't be able to recognize the cave as anything more than that: a cave. Luckily, I've been trained quite a bit.

I enter the cave, making sure my steps are slow and careful. You can't be too cautious when you're dealing with the kind of things I am right now. My breaths sound incredibly loud in the dark silence of the cave. Right in front of me there's a long row of steps leading downwards, which I take as slowly as I can.

After some time, I reach the ends of the steps, and head straight ahead. Within seconds, I'm facing a large, metal door. Of course, it's not just any kind of metal. This is the metal that held back the strongest one there was.

Putting my hand against the door, I whisper to no one in particular. "Hulk, what happened to you?"

Suddenly, cold metal points into the back of my neck. "The green one? He's dead."

I know who it is. He's the entire reason I came here. "Nice to see you too, Ross."

"I haven't been Ross in years, punk," He replies. "If you're going to call me anything, call me Hulk."

"Do I have to?" I ask with a slightly whiny tone. "I always liked Rulk better."

"Rulk..." The metal, which I know is a gun, is taken off my neck. "Only one person ever called me that. Is that you, Marvel?"

I turn slowly, my hands raised in surrender. "You know it, old man."

The Red Hulk looks the same as ever, which I am very glad to see. Everybody's changed so much after the War. Towering over me, he's still a giant red mass of muscle. I recognize his gun as the one that he used to kill Abomination way back when, before my time. He always kept it, said it was there to remind him of some darker times. His burning golden eyes examine me with no emotion, making sure it really is me.

Eventually, he speaks up. "Hah! It's been too long, boy," He says, patting me on the back.

I try not to wince. A Hulk pat can hurt. "Way too long, Red. How's it been going?"

Rulk sighs, his shoulders stooping. "Not so well. I've been living in the Nevada for a while now, ever since the War ended. Figure the world doesn't need me anymore."

"Trust me, you couldn't be more wrong," I say. It wasn't like him to look so defeated.

"What do you mean?" He asks, suddenly interested.

As quickly as I can, I tell him all the events of the last three years, everything Cap's Peacemakers have been doing since the end of the War. It's a long list, but when I'm done, he turns to the metal door, his expression deadly serious.

"Rahhhh!" Screaming with rage, Rulk tears the door apart, and steps into the blackness within the room. He must have gotten stronger over the years, because there is no way the Red Hulk that I'm used to could break that door. No creature on Earth could, before this.

A few minutes later, he steps back out, armed to the teeth. In his hands, he carries two copies of the handgun from before, and over his back is slung a giant laser canon. He wears two ammo belts actually around his waist. He looks angry enough to kill an army, and flames are running across his body.

"So Rogers has gone rogue," He says, walking past me. "Fine. Looks like it's time to bring back the Remnant Squad."

**Kind of a tie-in with my other story, The Remnant Squad. If you've read it, you can guess where things will go from here. If you didn't guess, the desert they're in is the Nevada Desert, and the test site is the one where Bruce Banner first became the original Hulk. Please, please, please review! Please?**


End file.
